Mutually Assured Destruction || Yandere!Soulmates X F!Reader

Uprising

Taking back the Redd River Valley didn't happen overnight. It took time, people, and --above all-- bullets. Lots and lots of bullets. You even managed to get your hands on a few explosives. Homemade dynamite was a bit tricky... You nearly blew off another finger on a couple of occasions, but you somehow remained in one piece.

It also wasn't as simple as a game of capture the flag. Taking back outposts, which included any and all places of interest in the Valley, was one thing. The gang members who hijacked the area had to be eradicated and a battalion of soldiers from the local militia had to be stationed there in their place to prevent the Final Ghouls from simply creeping back in.

It was nice to have the Rangers --each one a one-man army-- at your back.

Then there was the matter of cutting off their supply lines. They had a sort of organized chaos about them. There were always vehicles coming and going down the roads, but there was no way of telling what they were carrying until the Rangers besieged them.

Could be a shipment of guns and ammunition, which was always a jackpot. Could be a bunch of civilians they planned to enslave. It always felt good to play the hero. Then again, it could be reinforcements... Meaning they essentially kicked a hornets nest. They still won three out of five of those fights, retreating the rest of the time after losing too many people.

Even so, it was clear that the Final Ghouls were losing more bodies than the locals were.

The Rangers and militia killed any raider they came across indiscriminately. You once happened upon a marauder a ways away from the rest of his group, taking a piss. You shot him in the back of the head while his stream was still strong.

Hopefully that didn't wrack you up any bad karma. If there was one way you didn't want to go out, it was with your pants down. Also drowning. Or on fire. Whatever.

Inch by inch, mile by mile, the Valiant took back the Redd River Valley. That meant armed water caravans could safely make trips to and from the Fort again. No one was going to die of dehydration. At least not anytime soon.

There was precious little time to celebrate the freeing of the region when Stern Plantation and Little Oak were still in enemy hands, but Garcia, as always, found time.

"Mija," she said, voice crackling like a camp fire over the beat-up radio attached to your belt. "Come back to Fort Valiant. I have a surprise for you."

And, like a loyal dog, you came when called.

You expected a strategic meeting, a plan of how to attack the Final Ghouls' defenses of the Plantation. You expected a lecture on how sloppy your last job was. You were two times too reckless in the liberation of the outpost, putting not just your fellow soldiers but also civilians at risk.

You didn't expect Garcia and all your closest acquaintances huddled around a table with a large chocolate cake sitting in the middle.

"Happy birthday!" Everyone cheered as you stepped through the threshold.

You hadn't a clue what to do with yourself, never did when it came to celebrating you and your achievements in particular. It didn't feel right, didn't feel fair. After all the terrible things you'd done in your past, you didn't deserve to be remembered, let alone revered.

And Garcia --the mind reader-- saw all this on your vacant expression and immediately went into damage-control mode.

"Why don't you guys cut the cake?" She suggested, quickly closing the distance between the two of you and putting an arm around your shoulders. "I want to give mija her gift in private."

She led you away from the crowd, to a quiet corner of the Fort, before asking, "What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong," you somehow manage to choke out around all the emotions trapped in your throat. You had a bad habit of swallowing all your ugly feelings: your apathy when it came to the suffering of random settlers, your loathing of yourself and many others, your insatiable bloodlust...

"I know," Garcia replied, voice low and soft as a lullaby. "But I want you to put it into words. I want to hear it from your mouth."

You let out a mirthless bark of laughter.

"I don't deserve it," you said at last.

"Of course you do. Think of all the good you've done for this community."

"It doesn't even begin to atone for all the horrible things I've done to others like it in the past."

"All of that is over--"

"It's not, though! All the skeletons in my closet are out and walking around." And the question remained... If you were looking at the Twins down the barrel of a gun, could you take the shot? Could you do the right thing?

Garcia moved to rest a hand on one of your trembling shoulders, but you took a step back, out of her reach.

"I'm not in the mood for cake. Could you give my piece to Melanie, the Final Ghoul girl currently rotting in jail? If it brightens her day even a little bit, then it's a worthy effort."

"Of course, mija. Anything for you. But there really is something I'd like to give you before that." Then she swung her rifle off her back and held it out to you.

You balked at her. "No way. La Longue Carabine? This is a family heirloom, Garcia. You can't just give it to me!"

She laughed. "You're the closest thing to family I've gotten. I think of you as the daughter I never had, and I am so proud of you. I'll feel better knowing you have La Longue Carabine by your side when you get into trouble."

You hadn't a clue what to say, considering refusing it again, but that just seemed rude and wrong. So, slowly, reverently, you took the rifle from her hands.

"Thank you, Garcia," you said, all choked up again but for a different reason this time.

"Don't mention it. Happy birthday, Y/N... I wish you all the happiness in the world."